


Overheated

by theunknownfate



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Heat Stroke, Kink Meme, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt a long time ago. Rorschach and his layers have trouble in the heat. Dan manages to piss off a whole bunch of assassins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The stakeout had extended to daylight hours and the temperature climbed with the sun. Out of sight inside Archie, Rorschach had been uncomfortable enough to open his trench coat after 80° and Nite Owl pushed his cowl back. The hat and gloves had been removed at 90°, and Dan had been glad to peel off the cape. When the temperature rose to miserable, they had finally agreed to go in and check things out. Dan had street clothes on hand and was willing to unmask, so he got to go. It was just as hot outside, but at least the air was moving. 

_Should've rolled down a window for Rorschach_ , he thought with half a smile. _I'll bring him back a drink after I check this out._ He put on his best goofy smile and knocked on a window. When a man big enough to be the door came to chase him off, he asked if he could use the phone and to his own surprise was allowed in. The blast of air conditioning was like a kiss from Heaven, but the resemblance stopped there. 

The room looked like a normal receptionist area for an extermination company, but it was full of people with slicked back hair and dark suits. Either there was a hitman casting call or it wasn't bugs thus place specialized in exterminating. The man they had followed was nowhere in sight, though.

He was pointed to a phone and he made a big deal of calling a mechanic for his broken down car, winking at the receptionist who wasn't impressed, but smiled anyway. There were phone numbers written on the appointment book in front of her. He leaned on the counter like he was still flirting and called Hollis' shop. He started going on about how he really expected better service and just let himself ramble while he memorized the numbers. Hollis figured it out and just said uh-huh until Dan was ready to hang up. 

"This had better be good," he said at the end. "Besmirching my good name like that." He wasn't angry though, and his tone was teasing.

"I'll tell you all about it when I get there," Dan said and handed the phone back to the woman who had lost interest long ago. Dan thanked the big man and dared to thump him playfully in the arm, which went over like a lead balloon, but at least the guy didn't hit him back. Dan stepped back out into the shockwave of heat and went around the corner to write down the numbers before he forgot them. Then, he hurried to the nearest convenience store for a bag of ice and a 6-pack of Cokes.


	2. Chapter 2

The ice was dripping freely by the time Dan got back to Archie. When the hatch opened, a wave of even hotter air rolled out. There was also the sour smell of vomit. When Dan ducked inside, he found Rorschach laying in the floor and retching into his hands. 

Dan swore and ran to help him. From the mess, it looked like Rorschach had thrown up inside his mask and gotten it everywhere trying to pull the mask up. Dan tried to help, but got slapped away. Rorschach struggled, but he was disoriented and wheezing. When Dan got hands on him, he could feel his pulse hammering like a hummingbird's. Rorschach had unbuttoned his suit down to the dress shirt but thrashed when Dan reached for it. 

"It's me!" Dan said, grabbing his wrists to hold them down. "It's just me."

"Ship crashed!" Rorschach choked. "Falling and falling…"

"You just fell out of the chair," Dan said, noticing how red the exposed skin was. Rorschach's clothes were damp with old sweat, but his skin was hot and dry. "Shit," he said and Rorschach clutched at him like he was still falling. 

"Spinning…" he said weakly. Dizzy too. Damn it.

"Take this off," Dan said, hooking his fingers under the mask. "Everything off." He whipped it up over the head before Rorschach could protest and shoved the bag of ice into his lap which got a sound that would've been a scream if there had been any strength behind it. "Hold that." He was yanking off shoes and pants and good God, how many layers had to be spread as wide as possible to let the air in? Not that the air was any cooler.

Dan swore again and turned around to punch in the autopilot to get them home. There was vomit on the controls too. Rorschach really had thought they were crashing and had tried to right the ship before he collapsed. Once they were moving, Dan went back to kneel with his partner. He wiped condensation off the bag of ice and rubbed it into Rorschach's face, his real face, he realized a little too late. 

_Don't look_ , he reminded himself, _don't study, not now, just try to cool him down._ The Coke probably wasn't a good idea yet, so he tore a hole in the bag and pulled out a clump of ice cubes he hoped was too big to choke on.

"Suck on this," he said, holding it to Rorschach's lips. Rorschach flinched from it and they all slid across the floor a little as Archie made the dive into the river. It was darker now, but no cooler yet. Dan broke off a smaller piece and tried again, running it over Rorschach's upper lip and letting it melt into his mouth. It took a moment or two to register, but then he opened for it. 

Dan kept his grip on it, still afraid Rorschach would choke if it fell down his throat. He felt the dry, sticky tongue touch his fingers and then home in on the ice and it felt like forever before it had melted enough that he could feel the weak bob of a swallow. Dan took an ice cube for himself with his free hand and imagined a gulp of cold washing through the burn of vomit in a dry throat. He pressed the free hand to the ice until the cold hurt and then held it against Rorschach's forehead. 

"Almost there," he said. "We'll get you in the shower and some more to drink and you'll be fine." In a day or two. Maybe. But he didn't say that and Rorschach's only answer was a muffled moan around his fingers. Dan decided it was a request for more and got another ice cube.


	3. Chapter 3

The Nest was blissfully cool underground and Dan took a minute to peel down to underwear before turning the shower on and going back for Rorschach. Rorschach was calmer, not nauseous or agitated, but still dizzy and weak. Dan put his arm over a shoulder and helped him into the water. It felt wonderful to Dan, but Rorschach gasped and thrashed. Maybe the crashing hallucination had had a water landing. He pulled Rorschach back against his chest to steady him.

"It's all right," he said, moving them both under the spray. "Feel that? Isn't that better? Doesn't that feel good?" He tilted Rorschach's head to let it hit his face and ran hands over him, letting the coolness sink in. Rorschach just stood there quivering. Dan stepped aside to to let the spray hit his back too. The muscles jumped and knotted under his hands, so he kept rubbing. Were cramps a symptom of heat exhaustion? 

"Easy," he said. "I've got you. It'll be okay." Rorschach shivered, but he nodded. Dan went on rubbing, just to have reason to stay there. He was ignoring how transparent underwear was when wet and how very awkward this could get at any moment. He scraped a sheet of water down Rorschach's back with the side of his hand and that got a hiss out of him. 

"…s-stop.." It was weak, but it was a word.

"Did that hurt?" Dan asked.

"…ngh." Rorschach leaned into the wall. Dan felt his body clench and shake.

"Are you going to be sick again?" he asked. The shower was the best place to do that if he had to. Rorschach swayed and Dan caught him, felt another lock and another spasm. 

"..no.." This time it was forced out through clenched teeth. Something was wrong, something was hurting and Rorschach huddled against the shower wall to keep him from seeing it. 

"What do you need?" He leaned forward, his chin brushing Rorschach's ear. The rest of the man shook and he slammed his hands against the tile to catch himself. Dan grabbed him under his arms to keep him upright. Was it a seizure? He would have to call 911 for sure, but then Rorschach steadied. Dan asked if he was all right and got a vaguely affirmative noise. Rorschach still slumped, but he was getting his feet back under him. His breathing was heavy but it had slowed down and so had his jackhammering pulse. They stood in silence, until Dan started to get cold. 

After a few more long breaths,Rorschach was able to put his hands against the side of the shower and rest his weight on them. Dan carefully let him go. He was able to stand this time. 

"Better?" Dan asked and saw a shudder go through the bent shoulders. 

"Head hurts," came the rasp. 

"You're dehydrated and you might have had heat stroke," Dan said. "If you're all right, I'm going to go hose out Archie. Do you want to sit? Are you ok for me to leave you?"

"Fine," Rorschach growled, but he didn't look up and his fingers went white against the tile. 

"It can come back fast," Dan told him. "Trust the pudgy kid who got shamed into playing little league in the dead of summer. You aren't going to be 100% for another day at least." He waited for the argument, but Rorschach hung his head a little lower and didn't speak. That worried Dan all over again.

"Fine." It was his turn to say it. "We'll get you dried off and upstairs in the air conditioning. You need to rest and replace what you've lost. Maybe an ice pack for that cooked head."

Once they were dry enough not to drip, Dan took them both up the stairs. The change in light made Rorschach wince which was probably his headache. Dan turned on the fan and set him up on the couch with water, some saltines, and a bowl of the rapidly melting ice cubes.

"Just sit," he said. "Seriously, if you overdo it now, it could backlash, and then you're going straight to the hospital, buddy. There'll be IVs and bloodwork and they will watch you pee until you wish you had died. That's the way I remember it anyway."

Rorschach looked at him and Dan had to remind himself not to stare again. This is not how Rorschach wanted to be seen, he reminded himself. He wasn't exactly at his best. Dan took in the cheekbones and the sturdy jaw and turned away before he could start memorizing the lines of the nose. 

"Drink the water," he said. "Eat a little if you can. I'm going to clean out Archie and get your stuff."


	4. Chapter 4

Archie needed the pressure hose and some disinfectant to get the smell out. Dan gave the mask the same treatment and put the rest of Rorschach's uniform in the wash. He found the numbers he had jotted down and was relieved that they hadn't gotten too wet to read. They could be nothing, could be the big-haired girl's date list for the week, but they could be contacts for the series of assassinations that didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason except that the victims had all had bug problems before they wound up dead.

They would have to investigate all the numbers and that would have to wait which could mean that people would die. Rorschach would have a conniption over that. It could be for the best to not tell him, but that would only make it worse later. Maybe they could hand it over to the Comedian or one of the others, but not without an explanation and that would burn in Rorschach's gut too. 

He went back up and the problem was solved for the moment. Rorschach was asleep on the couch, head lolled against the back of it. He had finished the cup of water and might have nibbled on a few crackers. The bowl of ice had melted, but he was holding it in his lap, hands loose around it. Dan didn't want to wake or alarm him by taking it, but didn't want it to spill all over him either. 

Rorschach's breathing had settled down now and his pulse wasn't visible in his throat anymore. That was good. He looked haggard, but Dan really had no way of knowing how unusual that was. He set the phone numbers and the clean mask on the coffee table and sat in the opposite chair to finally let himself look at everything.

The breeze from the fan tousled red hair, like the crest on a bantam rooster which made Dan smile until he got to the bruised temple. That had come from brass knuckles a few nights ago. Dan had a matching set below his ribs. The eyes were closed and Dan had to think for a moment to remember the color. A battered nose, the cheekbones he had noticed before and the mouth he had gotten to see a few times already. Amazing what a whole landscape there was under the smooth surface of the mask and once he had committed it to memory, his eyes roamed over to the chest and arms visible over the towel. 

Rorschach was made up of so many angles and edges that Dan couldn't help but imagine hooking his fingers under them, under the cheekbones, behind the jaw, around his collarbones, along his pectorals, under his ribs, and down his arms. He had touched him before though, in the shower. He just hadn't had the time to enjoy it. 

Rorschach looked so tangible and touchable that Dan was rapt and when the phone rang, they both jumped. Rorschach flailed awake, almost knocking over the bowl but catching it in time. Dan lurched for the phone. It was Hollis.

"Someone called for you right after you called me," he said immediately. "Wanted your address because you left your wallet there. I said you were on the way here and that I'd tell you to go get it. Then they wanted my address to bring it. I didn't give it to them, but there is now a car with Jersey plates and tinted windows staking out my garage. I went next door to use their phone, but I wanted to give you a heads up. These people aren't stupid or lazy and they seem to be able to trace phone calls."

"God, I'm sorry," was all Dan could think to say at first. 

"Don't be. I'm fine. I'll call the police about suspicious characters around my garage and call it a night. Whoever you're after, catch them quick before this gets ugly. And be careful." 

He hung up and Dan took a moment to process. He was not up to taking on professional assassins who might already be on their trail. He was tired, and had a headache thrumming to life behind his forehead. He hadn't been wearing five layers and had gotten a reprieve in the office, but he had been out in the heat most of the day too, and then had to clean up the mess. He looked over his shoulder at Rorschach, still squinting and unsteady, but suddenly going very alert. He started to suggest that they could call Adrian, but stopped when Rorschach lunged for him. The edge of Dan's glasses caught a red reflection he couldn't register until pain tore through his ear and burned across his skull. He fell, dropping the phone, hearing it shatter.


	5. Chapter 5

He must've blacked out because he heard Rorschach babbling his name long before his vision cleared enough to see. He was being held down, face pressed to the floor. The other side of his head was on fire and as his eyes focused, he saw blood everywhere. Rorschach's towel was pressed against the pain in his head. He had no idea what had happened and tried to sit up.

"Don't," sobbed the voice that was sounding less and less like Rorschach. "I can't-"

"I'm all right," Dan said. His own voice sounded distant. 

"Been shot," Rorschach told him and that made no sense at all for what felt like a long time. Who would shoot him? Assassins. Oh. But how would they have- He remembered the red light and the sound of things breaking. Laser sight, through the window. 

"How bad?" he asked and felt the damp towel peel back. The whole side of his head was burning with pain. He couldn't tell where it was coming from until he felt fingers. 

"Hit ear," Rorschach said, breathless with relief. "Grazed scalp. Need stitches."

"Call it in," Dan groaned. "Get some help."

"Meant for your eye," Rorschach went on. "Saw the dot."

"Could come finish it," Dan said, trying to sit up again. Rorschach let him, still holding the towel to his head. 

"Already did," he whispered and Dan saw the man on the floor. He honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry or pass out cold and let someone else take care of it. 

"Get your story straight," he said instead. "Call 911. Hollis will hear it on his radio." He eased himself back to the floor. "You can wait in the Nest if you want. Take your mask." He pointed in the direction he thought the coffee table still was. 

"Daniel." It was just above a whisper and not quite a question. 

"It's all right," Dan said and set his teeth to lay his head back down. He wasn't sure if Rorschach did go make the call, but something solid and warm curled up against him. The pain was a solid fog but the hesitant brush of fingers was a comfort in the haze. Noise and movement woke him up later. When his head cleared, he was in the hospital. 

An officer came to see him and ask what he remembered. He didn't know what Rorschach had told them, so played dumb. 

The story they had was that he and a friend had broken down and when he had called the shop, someone at the office had followed him home to rob him. His friend had smashed the intruder with a ceramic bowl that had broken and a shard had stabbed the jugular vein. The intruder had died at the scene but there was an investigation underway. Dan could go home as soon as they were sure there was no brain hemorrhaging. Hollis drove him home after he was discharged. 

They both expected to have to clean up blood and broken glass, but someone had been there. The glass was swept to a pile by the trash can, the bullet hole in the window was plugged, and there had been an attempt at mopping. All the blinds and curtains were closed.

"Might have to replace floorboards," Hollis nodded at the puddle where the hitman had bled to death.

"Or buy a rug," Dan agreed. After Hollis left, Dan went down to the Nest. The bloody towels were in the laundry baskets. There was a fan on and Dan followed the sound to find a man wearing a mask dozing beside it. There was still blood in the creases on the knuckles, whether it was Dan's or the assassin's he didn't know. He lowered himself down to lay at Rorschach's back. 

"Should be in your bed." The familiar gravel voice was as pleasant as the cool air. 

"So should you," Dan said. There was a long pause and Rorschach rose on elbows to glare at him.

"Better now," he grumbled. "But you-" His hand brushed Dan's ear without touching any of the stitches. The cold pavement was bizarrely comfortable now, and Dan chuckled. 

"Fine like this," he said, catching Rorschach's wrist. An indignant snarl told him that turnabout was only fair play when it wasn't turned on Rorschach. "My hero," he said sincerely enough to make up for it, and pressed a kiss to the held knuckles. Rorschach didn't know how to reply to that, so Dan closed his eyes.He let the cold seep up his back and the fan tickle across his side. After the accusing silence had no affect, Rorschach settled down too, returning his head to the spot by Dan's. They both slept until the sun went down.


End file.
